Welcome Home
by nox06
Summary: It's been four years since the Battle of Hogwarts and George Weasley brings his girlfriend home to meet his family for the first time.
Julia Adams was tapping her fingers on her knee. She was always did this when she was nervous. Not that she'd admit it, of course.

George Weasley was trying to stifle his laughter. He found it adorable that his girlfriend was so nervous about meeting his family for the first time. Not that he'd ever tell her that he was somewhat nervous as well, of course.

Oh, he knew they'd love her. Why wouldn't they? She was perfect. Funny, kind, and had the most adorable laugh. He loved to make her laugh, though it was for a rather selfish reason. He just couldn't get enough of the way her eyes lit up.

His eyes hadn't done that for the longest time before he met her. His laugh was hoarse when she finally forced one out of him for the first time. It had hurt to smile. To even look in the mirror.

Now… well, now his eyes always lit up when he saw her walking towards him. His laugh was rich and loud. He never stopped smiling, and he would always check himself in the mirror. He had to, in order to make sure he looked perfect for her.

After Fred had died in the Battle of Hogwarts four years ago, George felt like his heart had died with with his twin. He had tried to find consolation in his old classmate, Angelina Johnson. He had fooled himself into thinking it was working for a couple of years, until they had finally admitted to each other they only loved each other as friends only a few weeks before Julia had waltzed into his life, well store.

One look and he fell, and fell hard. George was certain it was her eyes that had done him in. The way they sparkled when she laughed, and how they always lit up when she saw him. Julia had helped him through his depression. Angelina had tried, of course. And George was grateful. She just… hadn't been what he needed.

Julia was though. When she had learned about Fred, she had wanted to understand his pain so she could help him. George had smiled lightly at her and told her that all he needed was someone who could hold him when he cried. From that moment on, it was her. All the tears George had held back for four years came rushing out that night.

And it wasn't just his twin that he mourned. He cried for kind Remus and brave Tonks, and their young son Teddy that he babysat for every now and then. He cried for helpful Hedwig and Dobby. He cried for strong Mad-Eye. He cried for cheerful Colin Creevy. He cried for reckless Sirius. And he cried for the young boy Harry had told him about, forgotten Regulus.

George was not surprised in the least when he found Julia was a healer. She had been a necessary factor in his own healing. Oh, he wasn't healed all the way. He didn't think he'd ever be. But, with Julia by his side, he might get close.

His blue eyes watched as Julia drummed a beat on her knees. The pair of them were in a Ministry car. Whenever Julia got too anxious or nervous it was hard for her to go somewhere via magical means. So with the thought of meeting her boyfriend's family hanging over her head? Cars were the way to go.

Julia felt George's gaze, and when she saw him smirking at her she scowled, and stilled her fingers.

"Nervous, love?" he teased.

"Not at all," she sassed. "I'm only just worrying about what twelve separate people think of me."

"They'll love you, babe," George promised.

"Are you sure?" Julia asked, finally showing how insecure she truly was about this visit.

"Completely."

* * *

Thirty laugh-filled minutes later, the couple were walking through the front door of the Burrow, Julia's hand secretly cutting off circulation to George's as he told her about the time he, Fred, and their younger brother Ron had kidnapped a starving Harry Potter to only nearly be killed by their own mother.

He was halfway through the story when a stampede echoed throughout the house. The two looked up to see five gingers, a brunette, a blonde who held a miniscule version of herself, and a black-haired man who was holding a young boy with teal hair by the hand standing on and around the steps.

"Julia!"

The little boy's face split into a grin as he yanked his hand away from his guardian's and shoved his way through the adults and over to the couple in order to throw his arms around Julia's waist.

Julia smiled back at the boy as she bent to return his hug, George grinning down at them. Julia had met Teddy Lupin a couple times before from whenever she was over at George's flat above his shop and he had to babysit. Harry made his down the steps and over to the couple to gently pull the four-year-old away from the girl as she laughed.

"Sorry," Harry said as Teddy talked animatedly to Julia, not registering his guardian was talking over him and to the same person. "He's just had his nap."

"It's fine," Julia grinned. She was comfortable with the famed Boy-Who-Lived, as she had met him before whenever he dropped his godson off at the shop. "He's a sweet kid."

George hadn't stopped staring at his girlfriend for the entire time they had been at the Burrow. He was smiling as he watched her chat easily with Harry, absentmindedly massaging his hand, which she had dropped from her tight grip when she had bent to hug Teddy. He was rather glad she already knew Teddy and his godfather. He was certain she'd be far more nervous if he was the only one she'd met.

"Hate to interrupt," he said, wrapping an arm around Julia shoulders, effectively cutting both her and Teddy off, who had still been rambling on. "But I think introductions are required."

Julia looked away from him and to the eight people who were still staring curiously at her. "I'm sure I could get by by calling everyone by their hair color," she mused, eyeing the five redheads besides her boyfriend.

The crowd broke into easy smiles, seeing George laugh and her smirk slightly. "Right then," George said. "I'll point out who's who in case the hair colors don't work. Bill's the one with the ponytail (Mum hates him for it). The blonde is his French wife, Fleur, holding their kid, Victoire. Call her Vicky, she hates it. That there is Charlie, and the prat with glasses is Percy. That's Ron, and the brunette is Hermione. We're all waiting for them to get engaged, so if you know how to make that happen faster, go ahead. Ginny is the only ginger who's a girl, (I'm pretty sure Bill has the ponytail because he's jealous of her long, flaming locks) and then you know Harry and Teddy."

Julia's mind was reeling from all the names. They had all gestured in someway to indicate who was who, but George had been talking rather quickly.

"It's fine if you don't get it right the first couple of times," a kind and motherly voice called for the kitchen doorway. Julia turned to see a rather plump and short woman smiling kindly at her as she wiped her hands on a rag. A tall ginger man with kind blue eyes was smiling at her, a hand on his wife's shoulder. "I still mess them up, and I'm their mother!"

"Hello Mum," George grinned, striding over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she huffed. "Now shut up and introduce me and your father to your date."

"This," George beamed, pulling the girl forward by the hand, "is my girlfriend, Julia Adams. Julia, these are my parents; Arthur and Molly Weasley."

"Hello, dear," Molly said as she and her husband took turns shaking the girl's hand. "Are you lot hungry? Dinners ready!"

* * *

Dinner was a festive affair as it always was at the Burrow. Words echoed around the garden as people called across the long tables to each other. George hadn't stopped smiling. Julia got on wonderfully with his family, not that he ever doubted that she would, of course.

Okay, so he'd had the slightest absurd notion that they'd hate her.

He was wrong, obviously. But he had feared that they'd resent her because he had started to date her almost instantly after breaking it off with Angelina.

He was quite glad he was wrong as he watched her chat easily with Fleur and Charlie. He had whispered his fears to Ginny, trying to laugh it off, but also wanting to check that he was wrong, wasn't he? Ginny had, quite happily, slapped her older brother around the head. She rolled her eyes and informed him they all knew that he wouldn't stay with Angelina. It had hurt both of them too much to do so.

Ginny reassured George that they all loved Julia, not only because she was a lovely girl, but she had made his eyes sparkle again. Something they had all tried, to no avail. "If this girl can make you this happy," Ginny said. "Then there's no bloody way we're ever going to let her leave."

And so now, George was beaming around the table. Everyone looked so comfortable and at ease. It had been hard to get here, really hard. And for all of them. But they were. They were getting better. Sure, someone was missing. And everyone was very aware of that. Even Julia.

But now, nobody was crying at the slightest mention of his name. Yes, Charlie's smile had a twinge of sadness to it as he told Fleur, Ginny, and Julia stories from their childhood about their pranks. And his mother seemed to keep scanning the table for someone who wasn't there.

But they were coping. And a lot better than they had been originally. Yes, he still had depression. Yes, Ginny still cried in her sleep. Yes, Bill and Charlie would call him Fred by mistake every now and then. Yes, Ron had to stop helping at the shop full-time because it hurt to much. And yes, Percy still blamed himself.

Percy had told George that. At the funeral as everyone cried. It was that that had made George cry, himself. He felt that crying made it real. But to hear his big brother confess that to him, choking back tears. That had made him drop to the muddy ground in broken-hearted sobs. Percy had fell to his knees next to him, and they held each other while they cried.

After that moment at the funeral, they had grown a lot closer as brothers. Percy had quit his job at the Ministry and George had taken him on as his new partner, along with Ron temporarily. They had found consolation in each other, a lot more than George had in Angelina. They'd connected, and understood each other a lot better than they had before. They were so much closer than they were before, and George was rather grateful for it. He didn't think he'd have survived if Percy hadn't been there for him.

"For what it's worth," Percy said from his seat next to his brother, no idea just how much whatever he said to George was worth, "Fred would've loved her."

 _FIN_

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